


spread your wings (and start flying)

by Solanaceae



Series: Femslash Friday [17]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Young Avengers
Genre: Drabbletag5, F/F, Femslash Friday, Femslash Yuletide, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Episode: s01e22 Beginning of the End, accidental kisses are a thing, comicsverse apparently, comicsverse?, reposting because fandom mixing in drabble collections is confusing, sorry for the inconvenience
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-04 09:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marvelverse femslash drabbles, written for <a href="http://femslash-friday.tumblr.com">Femslash Friday</a>.</p><p>  <span class="small">#1-3, 6, 11: Skye/Jemma Simmons, #4: Jane/Darcy, #5: Jane/Natasha, #7, 9: Natasha/Sharon, #8: America/Kate, #10: Jane/Sif, #12: Nebula/Gamora (First six moved from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/982434/chapters/1934882">here</a>.)</span></p><p>#7: <i>Undercover</i>: Natasha drops in unexpectedly on Sharon. (As she tends to.)<br/>#8: <i>24 Hour Breakfast</i>: <i>"What, tired of the party already?" America asked, rolling down her window. </i>(Amerikate.)<br/>#9: <i>as the world forgets</i>: Natasha/Sharon.<br/>#10: <i>stardust in your veins</i>: Jane and Sif in the gardens of Asgard.<br/>#11: <i>In The Quiet</i>: Jemma spends the night in Skye's room. (Post finale).<br/>#12: <i>hated you (least)</i>: There are things Nebula will admit to loving about Gamora. (Loving <i>her</i> is not one of them.)<br/>#13: <i>Missing You</i>: Skye gets contemplative. (Post S2E3)<br/>#14: <i>Homecoming</i>: The Skimmons hug we all deserved at the end of episode 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accidents Happen (Jemma Simmons/Skye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter between Skye and Simmons (because accidental kisses are a thing that sometimes happens).

The sound of  footsteps outside her bedroom (which was more of a closet with a bed in it, to be honest, despite how high-tech this entire plane was) made Skye turn over with a groan, rubbing her eyes. 

"Oh, curse this--" Three exasperated words, followed by the unmistakable sound of something -- many somethings -- crashing to the ground.

She blinked. Had that been Simmons? 

The sound of the biochemist's voice drifted in, an exasperated mutter as she struggled with whatever it was she had dropped. Skye swung her legs over the side of the bed, slipping her feet into the boots she had shed hours ago. She had to stifle a smile when she heard a muffled curse.

She stood and crossed to the doorway, leaning on the sill. "Need any help?"

Simmons' head jerked up, hand flying to her face to brush aside the hair that had escaped her neat ponytail. "I, ah -- yes, that would be _appreciated_ , thank you!"

Skye knelt to help gather the items, noting that they didn't seem too breakable -- whatever they were. She picked one up and looked more closely at it, running her fingers over the metallic surface of a ball just big enough to fit in her palm.

"Thank you," Simmons gasped, grabbing the ball from Skye and stuffing it into the box she was carrying. "I'm in an _awful_ hurry, or I'd stay and chat."

"Where are you going?" Skye asked, eyeing the teetering pile of mechanical objects Simmons was now trying to balance in a box that was decidedly too small for it. "I could help -- oh!"

The ball at the top of the pile rolled off, plunging from Simmons' arms. Skye lunged forward, only just catching it.

"Oh, dear." Simmons moved forward, the box in her arms wavering, and Skye stepped forward at the same time to help steady it. Simmons stumbled slightly, driving the box into Skye's stomach. Skye doubled over, wincing.

"Are you okay?" Simmons leaned forward, concerned, and Skye stood at the same time. 

Their lips collided, more a sideways clash of teeth and tongue than anything else, Skye's mouth slipping on the corner of Simmons', a sharp pain spiking through her bottom lip. Simmons pulled back with a yelp, eyes wide.

"Oh, I -- I--" She tightened her grip on the box, dithering for a few seconds, then turned and bolted. "Terribly sorry!" she called back over her shoulder.

Skye blinked, tasting blood on her lips, and wondered if she should call Simmons back -- wondering why she _wanted_ to, and wondering why the first thought that had popped into her mind was _well, she isn't the worst kisser I've met, is she?_


	2. Perfect Solution (Jemma Simmons/Skye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz has given Simmons a perfectly ugly sweater for the holidays. Luckily, Skye knows just what to do with it. (Written for Femslash Yuletide Prompt #6: Holiday Sweater)

A knock on her door made Skye look up, surprised––and then she doubled over laughing, unable to help it. Jemma stood in the doorway, her entire torso a muddle of clashing colors and bright sequins, scratchy wool with visible gaps through which her skin could be seen.

"Skye!" Jemma squeaked, frowning. "It's––Fitz knitted this himself, you know!"

"I'm sorry," Skye choked out between helpless laughs. "That's just so––so  _ugly_ , Jemma, how could you even stand to get into it?"

Jemma shot her a helpless look, holding out her arms, displaying the thing that called itself a sweater that seemed to have latched onto her. "I––well, yes. But the problem is,  _Fitz_  gave it to me and I can't––I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Feelings be damned, that's hurting my  _eyes_." Skye stood and grabbed Jemma's wrist, pulling her over to the bed. Jemma squeaked again, catching herself on Skye's arm.

"What're you––oh." She fell silent as Skye grabbed the bottom of the sweater, grinning mischievously.

"I do, however, have a solution for that." She pulled Jemma backwards with her. They landed on the bed, Jemma on top of Skye, face flushed.

"I think I like this solution," she said, breathless, as Skye yanked the sweater up and over her head.


	3. Candy Cane Kisses (Jemma Simmons/Skye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See chapter title for basically the summary. (Femslash Yuletide Prompt #8: Sweets and Treats)

Skye liked surprising Jemma in the oddest of places, appearing when she least expected it. Even better were the times when no one else was around, because that was when Skye could swoop in and kiss her before Jemma even knew she was there; get that little squeak of pleased surprise from her before it was muffled by her lips.

Lately, Jemma had taken to hanging candy canes up around the lab, replacing the ones Fitz insisted on appropriating. And, of course, it was no surprise that Jemma herself would sneak a candy cane every now and then, the red and white striped stick balanced between her lips as she leaned over the microscope, intent on her work.

Skye didn’t mind that. It was easy enough to sneak up and push the candy cane aside, plant her lips on Jemma’s––and her mouth tasted of mint and sugar, then, and Skye could feel her smile.


	4. Smile (Darcy/Jane)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has some questionable methods of cheering Jane up. Some might involve throwing snow at her. Which is completely legit, right? (Femslash Yuletide Prompt #24: Snowball Fight)

When Jane gets that far-away look on her face (the one that makes it painfully clear that she’s thinking about a certain blonde god-thing-whatever—y’know, like any normal girl with an extraterrestrial boyfriend who hasn’t called for awhile), Darcy knows she has to act fast. Leave her alone with her thoughts, and Jane’s likely to sink into a depressed slump for the next few hours.

So when they’re walking back through the falling snow from some science-people thing (Darcy might’ve had a few drinks to deal with the sheer level of geek in the room, which would certainly account for her haziness on the details) and she catches Jane glancing at the sky as if looking for someone — well, something has to be done.

It’s the first thing she thinks of. There’s snow all around, after all, and it seems a shame to waste it. And a snowball to the face tends to cheer people up, right? Right.

Or perhaps Darcy’s experience of the world is slightly incorrect, because after she recovers from the initial shock of being hit a snowball Jane turns to her with an incredulous look on her face — but then she bends and scoops up a handful of powdery white and hurls it back at Darcy with a breathless laugh.

Which, of course, leaves Darcy with no choice but to throw herself at Jane, driving her backwards into a snowdrift, and scrub her laughing face with snow until she gasps for mercy.

"I win," she informs Jane, who promptly grabs her scarf and yanks her down for a kiss.

"Did you, now?" Jane smirks when they pull apart, and it takes a moment for Darcy to regain her breath.

"I’m the one who has you pinned down in the snow, so I’d say yeah, I won."  _You’re smiling now, aren’t you? That means I won._

She stands and offers a hand to Jane, who only hesitates a second before grabbing it and letting Darcy yank her upright.


	5. Whispers (Jane/Natasha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt "Language" at femslash100's [Drabbletag5](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/852173.html).

She's always thought that Russian sounded harsh from anyone except her spy––and she can't get enough of it from Natasha. There's an art to coaxing it forth, she finds, pushing Natasha close enough to the edge with fingers and tongue and soft words that the walls slip, ever so slightly, until her voice is edged with need and lust that make warmth curl pleasantly in the pit of Jane's stomach.

It's better, she thinks, when Natasha smiles in her sleep, whispers words Jane barely catches. Her name is in there, sometimes, and she runs her hands through curling red hair, half-asleep and completely in love.

 _Do you dream in Russian?_  she asked her once, and Natasha bent down to press a kiss to her lips, smiling just enough that Jane can feel it.

 _Only the happy dreams,_  Natasha had replied.

 


	6. Worth It (Skye/Jemma Simmons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 1x07: Jemma won't admit that it was at least a bit fun, tranquilizing a superior officer.
> 
> Prompt "Shenanigans" at femslash100's [Drabbletag5](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/852173.html).

It was completely an accident.

 _Completely_  an accident, as Jemma was going to continue to tell herself. It's hardly as though she  _planned_  to end up helping Skye hack SHIELD. And it's not like she  _meant_  to shoot Sitwell. She just... panicked. Which––no matter what Skye might say––was a completely normal reaction. And perhaps it had messed up their plan more than a little, and perhaps at the time she had been rather terrified that there would be serious repercussions, but––

 _But_.

Skye's delighted laugh later, once it was clear that Jemma wasn't in too much trouble for tranquilizing a superior officer. The way she twined her fingers through Jemma's, squeezing once as though to reassure herself that she was still there. The way she tilted her head up, eyes drifting half-shut in invitation (and, oh god, the way Jemma's heart still stuttered when she leaned in and  _took_  that invitation, like it was the very first time).

"Worth it?" Skye teased, pulling away.

Jemma caught her breath and shrugged. "Perhaps next time, though––no tranquilizing anyone?" she forced out, reminding herself, _rules. Rules are good. Breaking rules is––something for Skye to do, not you._

Skye laughed. "Don't tell me you didn't like it at least a  _little_  bit."

She didn't want to admit that Skye might be right––god only knew what she would make of  _that_ ––so she fastened her hands around her shoulders and pulled her down, a smile fighting its way up at Skye's delighted laugh.

 


	7. Undercover (Natasha/Sharon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha drops in unexpectedly on Sharon. (As she tends to.) 
> 
> Post Winter Soldier, for femslash100's [drabbletag5](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/852173).

She's turning her new CIA badge over and over in her hands, watching the metal flash in the dim light, when the knock comes – not from the door, which is  where one might usually expect someone to be knocking, but from her window.

She hits the mute button on the television remote and stands, feeling for the gun she left on the coffeetable. The window clicks open and a red-haired figure drops to the floor, hands spread in surrender.

"Not shooting me would be very appreciated, Sharon."

"Natasha!" She sets the gun down and grins – she can't help it, she hadn't expected to see her so soon. "Don't you have a couple of governments to be hiding from?"

Natasha straightens and dusts off her clothes, shrugging. "Sure. Thought I'd drop by and spend some time, though – I seem to remember your bed being a comfortable one." She shoots Sharon a suggestive look, and Sharon does _not_ blush (though she suddenly remembers the details of quite a _few_ non-sleep-related activities they had engaged in on that very bed).

"Sure is," she says instead.

Natasha taps her badge, a smile curving her lips. "Just couldn't stay out of the spying business, could you?"

"Well, I still want to be _useful,_ " she shoots back before remembering and clamping her lips shut, mildly embarrassed. Natasha just laughs, though, and sets the badge down.

"I'm sure I can find all sorts of ways to be useful without a silly piece of metal. Mind if I stick around for awhile?"


	8. 24 Hour Pancakes (America/Kate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"What, tired of the party already?" America asked, rolling down her window._
> 
> For femslash100's [drabbletag5](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/852173.html).

Music drifted up from downstairs as Kate slipped out her window, still wearing the sleeveless dress her father had given her the week before. She leapt lightly from the rooftop to the spreading branches of the elm tree below, then to the street beyond. The car waiting in the shadows started the second her feet touched the ground, headlights flickering irritably.

"What, tired of the party already?" America asked, rolling down her window. Kate rolled her eyes and yanked the door open, falling into the passenger seat with a noise of relief.

"God _,_ don't even _ask_. Just get me out of here."

She shot Kate a look that said _that bad, huh?_ "Whatever you want, princess."

They moved off through the night, America's car making sounds of protest every few feet. (Kate strongly suspected it wasn't _her_ car anyways, but didn't say anything.)

"I'm hungry," she said abruptly, glancing sideways at America just in time to see the brief smile.

"For anything in particular?"

"No."

America swung the steering wheel hard to the left with a squeal of rubber, nearly spilling Kate out of her seat. "I know a good place," she said over Kate's squeak of protest. "Serves pancakes twenty four hours a day."

"Sounds like my kind of joint." Kate hesitated, then leaned over to kiss her softly on the cheek. "Thanks for the rescue, America."

"Yeah, whatever, princess." But America smiled again, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel as they pulled into the parking lot.


	9. as the world forgets (Natasha/Sharon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon struggles with the reality of her aunt's steadily fading memory.

"How is she?"

Sharon lowered the phone, keeping her eyes fixed on her kitchen counter, the pale scratches in the linoleum. (If she didn't blink, maybe the tears wouldn't fall.) "She thought I was my mother. Told me to wish her niece a happy tenth birthday."

Natasha's hands settled on her shoulders, turning her around so they were facing each other. She didn't say anything. Sharon struggled to stay calm.

"I don't know what to say to her," she said thickly, looking past Natasha, still fighting against the burn in her throat. "She was always––" Aunt Peggy with her laugh that made her feel like the sun had burst from behind the clouds, always Aunt Peggy with her hands around Sharon's, squeezing the trigger with her, air filled with the smell of gunsmoke and her perfume––

"She took me to the shooting range for my tenth birthday," she managed –  _because I always wanted to save people the way she did –_ and then the tears fell, hot and heavy, sobs swelling in her throat until they threatened to choke her. Natasha wrapped her arms around her and let her cry into her shoulder, soaking her shirt through.

"It's okay," she whispered, lips a hairsbreadth from Sharon's ear, and Sharon clutched her tighter, feeling as though the world was moving too  _fast,_  and Natasha the only stable thing left to cling to.

 


	10. stardust in your veins (Jane/Sif)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Sif in the gardens of Asgard. For femslash100's drabbletag5, prompt "celestial".

Sif lays her down on the soft grass of Asgard's gardens, spreading her hair out across the earth and whispering love into her ear through the flower-scented air. Jane shudders at her touch, half-drunk on the taste of the warrior's lips, and Sif pulls her close.

The stars above are brighter than any she's ever seen before, Jane realizes, and she can't tear her eyes away from them as Sif enters her, crooking her fingers to send shivers of pleasure through her. It all blends together, the stars and the darkness and the feeling of Sif on her (in her), until she thinks she might implode from the sheer _feeling_ of it all.

"Was that to your liking?" Sif asks afterwards, and Jane can see the stars reflected in her eyes, pinpricks of light against the warmth in Sif's gaze.

She answers with a kiss, keeping her eyes open to watch the way Sif closes hers, feel the soft sigh as she relaxes a bit more. The song of the stars is pounding through her veins – consuming her – but this can last a bit longer.


	11. In The Quiet (Skye/Jemma Simmons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma spends the night in Skye's room. (Spoilers for 1x22).

Jemma spends the night after she wakes up in Skye's room, clutching a pillow to her chest in sleepless anxiety. Every time she closes her eyes, she's back below the ocean, an immeasurable weight pressing in all around her. Every time she closes her eyes, they snap back open within seconds, accompanied by a soft, involuntary whimper of fear.

(She should've died, she thinks, and can't figure out how to tell the difference, how to tell if she  _hasn't_  died and this is just her brain giving her something to live in for the last few oxygen-deprived seconds, if she won't wake up to water pouring into her lungs––)

Skye holds her wordlessly, letting Jemma curl up against her and take deep, sobbing breaths as she fights to keep from screaming. The only other noise is the soft tick of the clock above her bed, the bright red second hand sweeping around the dial.

At around four in the morning, Skye's hands steal up and wind themselves through Jemma's hair, smoothing it down. She presses into the touch like a kitten, making another soft noise. Skye runs her fingers through the tangled strands soothingly and she relaxes ever so slightly, a bit of the tightness around her throat disappearing.

 


	12. hated you (least) (Nebula/Gamora)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things Nebula will admit to loving about Gamora. (Loving _her_ is not one of them.)

She loves Gamora's hair.

Loves the weight of it in her hands, loves the way her fingers can tug on it, drawing Gamora's head back, baring her neck. Loves the soft noises her sister makes when she pulls harder, something between pain and pleasure.

(She remembers her own hands when she was trying to shape herself into something new; trembling blue and glittering metal, and Gamora's hands on her shoulders – back when they still touched. _You are still beautiful, Nebula._ Her own snarl, pushing Gamora away, because the last thing she needed was _pity._ )

She carved away the soft parts of herself, thinking they would make her into something better. (Something that could rival Gamora, something that could win.) She should have known better – should have known that Gamora was always the _better_ one, the _favorite_. (Shouldn't have even tried.)

Still, it can't help but feel like some kind of triumph, taking a fistful of Gamora's hair and tugging hard, feeling the white-hot rake of nails down the parts of her back that can still feel. She fastens her lips onto Gamora's neck, just above the pulse, and bites – oh, so delicately, and just enough to serve as a promise.

She loves those moments that feel like victory.


	13. Missing You (Skye/Jemma Simmons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye gets contemplative. (Set between seasons 1 and 2, with spoilers through 2x03)

She misses her _so much_.

The first few days after Jemma leaves aren't so bad, really – too much going on, too much hiding and hacking and training. Mostly the latter, once things settle down. Running and pull-ups and shooting until her fingers blister and the line of shots through the target is perfect, one-two-three-four right through the heart. (She pretends every single one of them is Ward, and it helps.)

Still, things get quieter after awhile.

SHIELD-in-hiding isn't as flashy as the old SHIELD was, and there's even more downtime in between missions flushing out the remains of HYDRA. There's only so much time she can spend in the shooting range before people (Trip, mostly) start looking concerned.

She lies in her bed for hours on end, staring at the ceiling.

(Jemma used to lay right here next to her, curl up with her head nestled between Skye's shoulder and neck and drift off to sleep like that.)

It gets harder for her to fall asleep.

The lab is even worse – the one time she goes down to see how Fitz is doing (not much better, usually) she has to back out too quickly. Jemma should be _there_ , hunched over a microscope or running a simulation, chattering about her newest discovery.

"Where is she?" she asks Coulson once, and gets a tired shake of his head in reply. It's more than she was expecting, honestly.

She types up emails – long and rambling and far too pathetic to ever hit send, even if she knew any of Jemma's accounts. There was never any need to, not when they lived together on a freaking _plane_.

 _Miss you,_ she signs off every time, then selects all and deletes.

(An icebound ship is the last place she expects to see Jemma – _through the_ _scope of a sniper rifle_ is the last way she expects to see her – but she knows in a heartbeat what the truth must be, and fires at the railing instead.

Their eyes meet, and she sees the trust in Jemma's eyes before she turns away.)

 


	14. Homecoming (Skye/Jemma Simmons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Skimmons hug we all deserved at the end of episode 5.

Skye hangs back even if the only thing she wants to do is rush downstairs and find Jemma and _never let her go_. It's been – yeah, it's been a long day, and she needs to breathe, and—

(And how can she be sure that Jemma will _want_ to see her?)

After all, she's spent so long waiting to find her father, only to discover that he's a monster. There's some distant, superstitious part of her that wonders if _everyone_ she knows is going to turn out to be awful, just under the surface. Ward – her father—

(But not Jemma, her mind insists. Never her.)

 _I know that. I – but maybe being a monster is catching, maybe she doesn't want – maybe_ I'm _going to turn out the same as everyone else._

There's a noise in the doorway, and she turns to find Jemma standing there, a half-smile on her face.

"Skye?"

And despite all of it, she's crossing the room before she can think about it, feet carrying her forward and her arms thrown around Jemma, squeezing her tight and sudden so the air huffs out of Jemma and she can hear her laugh breathlessly.

"You're back," she mumbles into Jemma's shoulder, breathing in the scent of unfamiliar shampoo.

"Y-yes, I am." Jemma pats her shoulders, and Skye can feel her smile. "I'm back."

"I'm not going to let you go again," Skye informs her, and Jemma chuckles.

"Well, that might make moving around a little hard."

"Hmph." Skye tightens her grip, closing her eyes. "Well, that's a small price to pay. You're staying right _here_ , okay?"

Jemma hugs her back. "Yes, Skye. I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
